


Ride: Chapter Twenty-Two

by pinto_round_robin, zilia



Series: Ride [22]
Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-18
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2018-04-21 08:48:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4822736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinto_round_robin/pseuds/pinto_round_robin, https://archiveofourown.org/users/zilia/pseuds/zilia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Chris, I know what you're doing."</p><p>Chris ignores him and keeps jabbering on, concentrating intently on the map and not on Zach's face, which, he can tell without looking, is arranged into the expression of mingled exasperation and condescension that Chris always mentally translates as <em>I can see right through you, Pine</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ride: Chapter Twenty-Two

Chris doesn't condone vandalism, and he would never have considered it with his beloved ok-not-actually-his-after-all Chevy, but, as the miles between him and Chicago start slipping away like sand through his fingers, he starts entertaining thoughts of self-sabotage.

He knows that this isn't going to help. He has to go back to the real world at some point. There are responsibilities waiting for him, ranging from tending to his neglected garden to possibly having to deal with disclosing his sexuality to the world at large. None of them are particularly enticing right now, even though it's getting more and more urgent that he attend to them. But the longer they spend in the car, every time he feels the heat of Zach's gaze on him as he watches the road, or Zach's fingers brush his on the gear stick, or their eyes catch in the rear-view mirror, the more he wishes that this trip could last forever. He wonders how Zach would feel about going on the run and living out the rest of their days as highway wanderers, but then he remembers Zach's animals, and Zach's apartment in New York full of possessions that he needs to reclaim, and Zach's tedious insistence on _wifi_ and _civilisation_ and _reality_ , and regretfully shelves that idea.

Every moment they're on the road is a moment they won't get back. As long as they're still on the trip, Zach is definitely _his,_ and Chris can't bring himself to give that up. Not just yet.

There are two hundred and four miles to go until Chicago. Chris wills the car to start smelling of maple syrup. Is the maple syrup thing just for old cars like the Chevy? He's not really sure. Actually, there could be any number of problems with the car and he wouldn't even know. It's an unfamiliar car. Maybe he should go get it checked, just in case. Sure, Chris knows cars, he's owned several and driven many more in his time, so he can usually tell if something's up, but he doesn't know _this_ one well enough to be certain. Anything could happen, really. He should look out for a garage, really. Two hundred and three-and-a-half miles is a long way to go in a potentially faulty car. Two hundred and three. Two. One.

Fishing around for a conversation topic to distract himself, he instead says, "Hey, I'm hungry." His voice sounds oddly forced and loud in the car, despite the blare of the radio. "You want to get something to eat?"

Zach gives him a puzzled look. Chris can't really blame him. It's barely twelve, so a little early even for his legendary appetite. He _isn't_ that hungry; they had a big breakfast. But now he's said that he needs to commit to it, as though it isn't a desperate attempt to get out of the driver's seat so that he can have meaningful physical contact with Zach and draw out their time together but instead motivated purely by an urgent need for calories.

There's a gas station a couple of miles down the road. Chris can't help dropping his eyes to the little display on the dashboard that counts how many miles they've gone in total. Every time it clicks up, he feels a stab to his heart. Once he pulls into the forecourt, he turns off the engine and then leans across to Zach. He puts a firm hand behind Zach's head and kisses him with as much possessive ferocity as he can manage. Zach is too startled to respond for a moment, and then he gives a soft moan, and his mouth falls open for Chris's tongue. It's brief, intense, passionate. Chris wants to wrap himself up in Zach and never let go.

"Thought you were hungry?" Zach says as they pull apart, gasping.

" _Yeah_ , I'm hungry," Chris says, as a wave of misery washes over him. They need more _time,_ and he's panicking trying to get it _._ "What was that you said a while back about car sex?" He lunges forward, because the alternative suddenly seems to be to cry, and he can't...he can't...

"Slow down, Pine," Zach says, irritatingly composed, but with a slight laugh in his voice. "Come on. I could use some coffee." He gently pushes Chris away, and Chris feels so crushed, so rejected, like Zach's already broken his heart. He can feel his eyes starting to sting as he says "you don't want to fool around in the bathroom?" It's a stupid offer. He's trying to look alluring, but he has a feeling it comes off pathetic, and, from Zach's wordless look, he's right.

"Come on," Zach says. He takes Chris's hand and squeezes it for a moment, and then he releases it and opens the car door, sliding out. Chris sits alone, feeling hopelessly abandoned in their private, safe space, and watches him go.

He pulls himself together, rubs his hands furiously into his eyes, and then follows Zach into the small store. He pretends to be interested in the myriad candy bars on offer, when in actuality he's not taking any of them in. He grabs a handful at random, and then lets himself get distracted by the large map on display by the register. Zach wanders over to join him, and Chris almost drops his candy bars when he lets his hand settle on the small of Chris's back. He leans back into the gentle pressure, grateful that his hands are full so that he can't give in to his instinct and throw his arms around Zach's neck.

He nods towards the map. "Hey, why don't we go check out the Cahokia Mounds site? It's just a few miles off the route, and it's a prehistoric city. Could be really cool." He does what feels like a pale imitation of an enthusiastic hand gesture and almost loses his candy bars.

"Chris, I know what you're doing."

Chris ignores him and keeps jabbering on, concentrating intently on the map and not on Zach's face, which, he can tell without looking, is arranged into the expression of mingled exasperation and condescension that Chris always mentally translates as _I can see right through you, Pine._

"Or how about the giant catsup bottle near Collinsville?" he ploughs on, "Yeah, that sounds great. I've always wondered about that. I mean, a water tower that's _also_ shaped like a bottle? How cool is --"

"Chris."

"You could have your phone on the way?" Chris is sounding more desperate, even to himself.

" _Christopher._ "

Chris can't keep up the pretence anymore.

"What?"

"I know what you're doing. But we have to go back. We can't be on this trip forever."

 _Why not?_ Chris wants to say. He wants to stamp his foot and throw a tantrum like he hasn't done since he was a toddler. He wants to grab Zach and ride off into the sunset. He wants to hide in a hole in the ground and never come out again. Why is Zach being so _reasonable_? Chris has had everything he ever wanted for a few short days and now it's going to disappear in a few short hours, and then who knows whether he'll ever get it back, and how can Zach just be _fine_ with all of that if he really feels the way he says he did? He feels his eyes starting to water again, and hates himself.

"I've gotta buy these," he says, dropping his gaze and stalking over to the cashier. Zach lets him go. The small of his back feels suddenly very cold and unprotected.

By the time he's paid, Zach's made his way back to the car and is waiting by the door.

"Look, Chris, I'm scared as hell too, ok?"

"You don't seem scared," Chris mutters, fumbling with the keys as an excuse to avoid Zach's gaze.

"Well, I am. I'm sorry. Neither of us knows what's going to happen. I can't give you a guarantee. But we have to go home, Chris. If we're going to have something that works, it has to be in our real lives."

He's right, of course. Bastard. But at least he's acknowledged he's afraid too, and let some of that Spock-wall drop. Chris finally, grudgingly, looks up. Zach smiles at him, one of those slow, lovely, intimate smiles, not one of his pose-for-the-cameras grins, and Chris could bask in the warmth of it.

"Come on, Chris. Let's go."

It could be a death knell, it could be the beginning of something beautiful, but he'll never know unless he gets back on the road. Chris unlocks the car and sits down, starting up the engine as Zach slides into the passenger seat. Once he's rejoined the highway, he lets his eyes flick down to the dashboard once again.

_One hundred and eighty._

_One hundred and seventy-nine._

_One hundred and seventy-eight._

Zach reaches over to and lays his hand on Chris's knee, big, warm, gentle, just for a moment.

"Whatever happens, Chris, we'll meet it together."

_One hundred and seventy-seven._

 


End file.
